Moon Knight: Red Velvet
by chilled monkey
Summary: Moon Knight and Marlene investigate when an old comrade of Marc Spector asks for help to find his missing brother.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own "Moon Knight" or any related characters or concepts. All are property of Marvel Comics. No profit is being made from this story.

* * *

A layer of thick black clouds covered the night sky, completely blotting out the moon and the stars. Cold rain fell in torrents, drumming loudly on the rooftops of New York skyscrapers.

 _Yep, that's the glamorous life of a superhero all right. Getting soaked to the bone and freezing to death in the middle of a downpour_ Moon Knight thought as he tried to peer through the watery gloom. _Still I guess I can't complain too much. When the weather's this lousy even criminals prefer to stay in._

The crime-fighter was currently holding on to the Moon-copter's rope ladder as Frenchie piloted it through the steel and glass canyons of the city. While he was no stranger to enduring the elements he had to admit he would be glad to get home.

The rain was still pouring when they finally arrived at Grant Mansion on Long Island. Moon Knight looked down at the mansion's swimming pool. The pool's surface danced and jumped as the deluge pelted it, each drop sending ripples across the water so that it was in a constant state of agitation.

He said "okay Frenchie, I'm getting off here." The transmitter in his cowl relayed his words to his friend.

"Oui Marc" Frenchie replied over the radio.

He let go of the rope ladder and dived into the pool, hitting the water with a splash and disappearing under the surface. A concealed hatch slid open at his approach and he swam into a hidden passageway. A moment later he surfaced on the other side of the passageway, emerging from a sunken bath within the finely decorated master bedroom.

To most people the sight of a powerfully built figure dressed in a jet and silver costume, complete with a flowing cape and a full-face mask, rising up from beneath the water like a phantom would have sent them fleeing in terror. The woman reclining on the nearby settee merely smiled.

Her name was Marlene Alraune. She was stunningly beautiful, with pale blonde hair, fair skin and deep blue eyes. A sleek red dress clung to her lean athletic figure as she sat up.

"Hello Steven. You're home early" she said.

Moon Knight removed his mask to reveal the ruggedly handsome face of Steven Grant, AKA Marc Spector, AKA Jake Lockley. "Well it was a quiet night. Not so much as a jaywalker out there" he replied as he started removing his drenched costume and drying himself off with a nearby towel.

"That's hardly surprising when it's raining this heavy" she commented.

"That's exactly what I thought" he agreed. "So I decided to call it a night. Even Moon Knight needs to sleep sometimes."

"Oh, is that all you want?" Marlene asked, her smile turning coy.

Now wearing a white bathrobe Steven also smiled. "I think I can make time for more pleasurable act… ah-ACHOO!" He covered his nose and mouth just in time as he sneezed.

"Bless you."

"Sorry Marlene. I must have caught more of a chill than I realised."

"I'll warm you up" Marlene said, her voice sultry as she stood up. She walked up to Steven and put her arms around him.

"Hmm, I like the sound of that" Steven replied as he returned the hug.

She chuckled softly and pressed her lips to his. The embrace deepened as they kissed.

* * *

The following morning the storm had passed and the sun was shining brightly. Steven and Marlene, now wearing casual attire, were in the breakfast room going over stock reports.

"So how is everything?" Steven asked. "I trust we're ticking over nicely."

"Sure it's all going fine" she replied. "We're continuing to turn a profit and all of your accounts remain firmly in the black."

"Splendid. I knew it was a good idea to put the running of my affairs in your highly capable hands."

"No argument there. One small problem though. There's a stockholders meeting tomorrow and you need to be present for it."

Steven grimaced. "I'd rather go up against Bushman. At least dealing with him is simple."

"Sorry Steven, no-one ever claimed being an entrepreneur was easy" Marlene said with a teasing smile.

Before he could reply Samuels the butler entered. "Excuse me sir but there is a gentleman asking to see you. He says his name is Jacob Jones."

Steven frowned. "Show him in."

"At once sir."

As Samuels left Marlene sighed. "I know that look Steven. This is going to be trouble isn't it?"

"Probably" he admitted. "Jacob Jones is an old comrade from Marc Spector's marine days."

"Well that confirms it then. Anytime one of Marc Spector's old buddies turns up it means trouble" she said ruefully.

"You never know. Maybe he's just here to invite us to a wedding or something."

She raised an eyebrow. "You really think so?"

"No. But I can't just turn him away if he needs my help."

She smiled reassuringly. "I know Steven."

* * *

"Mr Jacob Jones sir" said Samuels as he led the man in. He was a stocky black man in his late forties with close-cropped hair and weathered features. He looked to be in good shape but both his legs were prosthetic from the waist down and he leaned on a cane.

"Marc? Is that you?" he asked.

"It's me Jacob. Let's just say I'm on good terms with Steven Grant" he replied, suppressing a smile as he spoke. "This is Marlene. She's my friend and aide."

"A pleasure to meet you Mr Jones" she said politely.

"Likewise miss" he replied as he shook her hand. They all took seats.

"So what brings you here Jacob?" Marc asked, shifting into his alternate persona with an ease that even he found unsettling.

Jacob's expression became worried and he seemed to slump in his chair. He took out a photograph of himself and another man, younger and with longer hair but with similar features. Both of them were grinning broadly.

"It's my brother James. He's an investigative reporter working for a local paper. For the last week he's been on an assignment. Then two nights ago he called me and said he was working on something big. He said he'd come by and tell me all about it."

"Let me guess. He never showed up" said Marc grimly.

"Exactly. I went over to his apartment the next day and…"

His words trailed off and he looked down at the carpet. After a moment he lifted his head. Now he looked not only worried but afraid.

"Marc it had been ransacked. Completely taken apart. Someone was looking for something and they wanted it bad."

Again he paused. Marc and Marlene said nothing, letting him talk in his own time.

He resumed speaking. "I went to James's editor. She told me he was investigating a local businessman named Carl Turner. Turner's a big player in organised crime, drug smuggling, murder, you name it. James was working undercover as a bartender at a club where Turner spends most of his time. It's called Red Velvet. I have the address here." He put away the photograph and took out a folded-up piece of paper that he placed on the table.

 _Well that spares me the trouble of having to contact my own informants as Jake Lockley_ Marc thought. _Based on the sound of it James had gotten some major evidence against Turner and stashed it away before they rumbled him. Turner's goons ransacked his place looking for it._

"I've gone to the cops but to be honest James isn't too popular with them after he wrote an article on police brutality. I'd look myself but well, I'm not as quick on my feet as I used to be." He gestured at his prosthetic legs. "Marc, if there's any chance my brother is still alive…"

"I understand. I'll find out what happened to him" said Marc firmly.

"Thanks."

* * *

"This could be a problem" said Steven after Jacob had departed. "Normally I'd go to this club as Marc Spector and get them to hire me as a bouncer, but now Turner and his goons are going to be on their guard."

"Maybe someone else would have a better chance of getting in without making them suspicious" Marlene suggested. "Like say, a new waitress perhaps."

"True. All right, see what you can find out there. But be careful."

"Don't worry about me Steven. I'll keep my eyes open" she replied. "I want you to promise me something though."

"Sure."

"While I'm out risking my neck to get information you WILL attend that meeting" she said, her tone making it clear that this was not negotiable.

"Okay I know when I'm beaten. Deal" he said.

"Good. Now if you'll excuse me I need to pick a suitable outfit. Something that'll get them to stare" Marlene said as she turned and started to walk off.

"As long as they don't stare too hard" Steve called after her.

Her only reply was a light, mischievous laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

Red Velvet was exactly as she had expected it to be; a standard club with a jukebox, pool tables, a bar and a dance floor. There was nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to indicate that anything illegal was going on. Which of course was what made it ideal for such purposes.

Now wearing a black crop-top and matching jeans Marlene was at the bar conversing with the owner of the club, Carl Turner himself. He was a tall black-haired man in a smart suit with an expensive gold watch on his left wrist. By all impressions a perfectly respectable businessman.

 _Of course I know better than most how deceptive appearances can be_ she thought. _How many people would think Steven is also an ex-mercenary, a cabbie and a costumed crime-fighter?_

"So Marlene, are you sure you can handle working in a place like this?" he asked.

"I've handled worse" she replied casually.

"Good, you're hired. You start tonight."

"Thank you Mr Turner. I'll see you then." With that she stood and walked away.

 _Very nice_ Turner thought as he watched her go. _Pity about this problem with that reporter or I'd take the time to get to know her better. Still once that specialist I called in gets here that nuisance will soon be taken care of._

* * *

That night Marlene was in the Red Velvet backrooms studying her reflection in a mirror. Her waitress uniform consisted of a tank top and shorts, both made naturally of red velvet or rather faux-velvet.

 _Not bad._

"Hi there" a jolly voice said behind her.

She turned to see a slightly older woman whose blonde hair was a deeper shade than her own. She was wearing the same uniform.

"You the new girl?"

"That's right. My name's Marlene."

"Nice to meet you Marlene. I'm Connie" said the woman as they shook hands. "I've been here awhile so if you need any help with anything come to me."

"Thanks." Despite Connie's welcoming words and tone she noticed a slight tension in the older woman and the cheer in her voice sounded a little forced. Marlene mentally filed the observation away.

"I better get started. I'll see you later."

"Okay, see you."

* * *

The first night passed mostly without incident. One guy made a grab at her only to be flipped to the floor and have her foot pressed to his neck. No-one bothered her after that.

Steven was at the front door when she returned home later that night, having finally returned from the tedious meeting he'd forced himself to sit through. "How did it go?" he asked.

"Not too bad. One of the waitresses seemed like she was hiding something. Tomorrow I'll see if I can find out what."

"Good idea, but remember to be discreet about it and make sure no-one hears you."

"Got it. Right now though I could really use a foot massage. I've been on my feet for hours and they're killing me."

Steven chuckled. "I think I can help with that."

* * *

James Jones groaned as he started to regain consciousness. His head throbbed with a dull pounding ache and his mouth was dry as dust.

 _What happened? Last thing I remember was being called into Turner's office… Wait…_

As it all came flooding back to him his eyes opened, adrenaline driving the cobwebs from his head. Fully conscious now he took in his surroundings.

He was handcuffed with his hands behind his back to a wooden support beam in the middle of a large chamber filled with stacks of wooden crates. The floor was concrete while the walls and ceiling were bare wood. A series of overhead lights cast a dim glow.

"Hello there James. Back in the land of the living?"

He turned his head to see Turner standing a few metres away wearing his usual suit. James quickly masked his fear.

"You gave us quite a scare you know. A simple truth serum shouldn't make a man's throat and tongue swell up like that. I had to bring in a doctor on my payroll." He smiled humourlessly. "It's kind of funny going to all that trouble to save a guy I ordered shot when I found out what you really are, but then I couldn't take the chance you were telling the truth about having stashed away enough evidence to put me away for life. I needed you alive to find out where it's hidden. That's if it exists at all."

"The evidence is real" James rasped.

"We'll see. Anyway it turns out you had a severe allergic reaction. That means I can't use drugs to get you to talk. So I called in a specialist."

As he spoke another man stepped out from behind a stack of crates. He stood over two metres tall and was built like a tank. He wore a black vest with a high collar, black trousers, boots and gloves. The vest was open, displaying his broad chest. Around his waist was a thick leather belt with metal studs. His skin was translucently pale and his white hair was cut into a flattop. His teeth had been filed to sharp points and his pale blue eyes were cold as ice.

This time James couldn't conceal his fear. He knew who this was.

"Tombstone" he gasped.

The hit-man grinned, his deadly teeth glinting in the dim light. "My reputation precedes me" he said in his low, gravely voice. "Glad to see I'm doing my job well."

"I appreciate you coming at such short notice. I realise you're a busy man" said Turner.

"Just make sure to have my money ready" Tombstone replied.

"Of course. I trust my men filled you in on what I want."

"Yeah. Don't worry about this guy dying on me before he spills his guts. I can be real delicate when I need to be." As he spoke Tombstone's grin broadened. He cracked his knuckles.

James barely managed to suppress a whimper.

* * *

Standing in the parking lot of Red Velvet, Connie exhaled a long plume of smoke and sighed. She looked down at the cigarette disapprovingly. There had been a time when she had only needed four or five a day. Today she was on triple that number.

 _It's the stress of thinking about what happened to James… No don't think about that! I didn't see anything!_

"Well look what we got here."

Connie tensed in fear as three unsavoury-looking men approached her. She recognised all of them as thugs that worked for Turner. Normally they behaved themselves in the club (since their boss didn't want any trouble that might draw attention), but outside and with him off somewhere…

"I don't want any trouble" she said fearfully as they circled her. One of them grinned unpleasantly.

"Won't be no trouble at all. Just so long as you don't make any fuss" he said as he began idly playing with her hair.

"Back off!"

Connie glanced over in the direction of the voice to see Marlene striding boldly across the parking lot towards them.

 _No stay away. You don't want to mess with these guys_ Connie thought.

Marlene came to a stop in front of them. "I said back off" she repeated. Her tone of voice and the look in her eyes were firm. Despite the situation Connie felt her fear ease slightly.

The lead thug sneered. "I'm gonna teach you a lesson."

He made a grab at her but she caught his wrist, turned and slammed him into the ground with a shoulder throw. The force of the impact winded him and to make sure he stayed down she brought her hand down in a knife-hand strike to his throat. He gagged and writhed as he struggled for breath.

The second thug tried to rush her only to run right into a back kick to his gut that doubled him over. Marlene followed it up with a roundhouse kick to the side of his head that dropped him to the ground.

His face twisted in a furious snarl the last one threw a wild punch. She sidestepped it while putting a hand behind his head and shoving hard. The added momentum sent him stumbling away. He managed to bring himself to a stop and turn but before he could regain his bearings Marlene leaped into the air and delivered a flying side kick to his jaw. He toppled like a chopped-down tree.

The thugs had had enough. They picked themselves up and stumbled away as fast as their bruised and battered bodies would allow. Once they were gone Marlene turned to Connie.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah I'm okay" she replied shakily. Her face was pale and drawn.

Marlene gently took her hand. "Come on, let's get you back inside."

* * *

A few minutes later they were in the backroom with Connie sitting on a chair and sipping from a glass of water. She still looked shaken but colour was coming back to her cheeks. Marlene decided to take a chance.

"Connie I'm looking for a guy that worked here" she said.

"Let me guess, James Jones" she replied.

"That's right. Do you know where he is?"

"You a cop?"

"No. I'm just a friend of a friend you could say" Marlene replied carefully.

Connie sighed deeply. "Yeah I know what happened. I saw some of the boss's guys taking him out the back of the club. He was struggling and his hands were taped behind his back. One of the guys punched him in the gut and then they loaded him into a car and drove off. I heard them say something about the waterfront and warehouse 65. I know I should have said something but I was scared you know?"

"Thank you" said Marlene gently. "Don't be scared. I know someone who can handle this."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Tombstone's appearance here is based on his "Marvel Legends" action figure. Also I know in the comics he has red eyes, but in real-life people with albinism (which Tombstone was born with) usually have blue eyes and I wanted my story to show that.

Warehouse 65 on the waterfront is a homage to the PlayStation 1 "Spider-Man" game.


	3. Chapter 3

Marlene left the club and once she was a safe distance away she called Steven and told him what she had learned.

"Good work Marlene. Frenchie and I'll head there right now" he said.

"All right Steven. Be careful."

"Always. See you soon."

"See you."

He hung up and went over to the intercom. "Frenchie, get the chopper ready. We've got an appointment at the waterfront."

"Right away Marc."

* * *

A short time later the Moon-copter was hovering above the New York waterfront. Frenchie was piloting while Moon Knight sat next to him wearing his full costume.

"Zere she is! Warehouse 65" Frenchie exclaimed.

"Then this is where I get off. Stay close in case I need you."

"Oui."

Moon Knight dropped through the hatch and glided down to the ground, using his cape to ride the wind and slow his descent. He touched down as silently as the silver wraith he resembled and approached the warehouse.

It took only a few moments to pick the lock with a crescent dart and he was inside, cautiously making his way through the maze of crates, alert for any possible threat. He stopped as he heard voices ahead of him.

"No more! Please no more! I'll talk, I'll tell you everything" a terrified voice sobbed.

"Now that's what I like to here " a second voice, this one low and gravely, replied in a satisfied drawl.

Now he could see the speakers. The one handcuffed to a support beam and clearly James Jones. He was in bad shape, covered in bruises with two black eyes and a broken nose. Standing in front of him with a grin that displayed his sharpened teeth was a figure he recognised as the notorious underworld hit-man Tombstone.

Moon Knight didn't hesitate. He charged in, fist drawn back. Tombstone spun around just in time to catch a right cross to the jaw followed by a left. He reeled backwards but then straightened up, his grin returning.

"Moon Knight" he said.

 _What? Those hits should have dropped him but he's completely unfazed._

Surprised by his foe's resilience he didn't react in time to block a haymaker that launched him backwards through the air. He hit the ground rolling and was on his feet in a second.

Tombstone snatched up a crate and hurled it at him. Moon Knight leaped over it and it broke apart as it hit the floor. He flipped forwards into a front handspring, his boots smacking into Tombstone's head. The hit-man stumbled back again and Moon Knight came at him with a rapid-fire barrage of jabs, uppercuts and elbow strikes, not giving him a moment to recover.

At first Tombstone gave ground but then he seemed to shake off the blows and landed a front kick that staggered him, followed by a right hook that he barely managed to roll with.

 _This guy's stronger than Cajun Creed. I can't match him head-to-head like this, I need to step it up._

Moon Knight ducked under a left hook and drew his truncheon. He swung it but Tombstone struck it out of his hand and then seized his wrist. Seemingly without effort he lifted him over his head.

"I'm really glad I took this job. Killing you will earn me a tidy bonus" the hit-man said.

But his brief pause to speak had given Moon Knight the opening he needed. He took two crescent darts from his belt and threw them at two of the lights. The darts whirred through the air and found their targets. Both lights exploded with a bright flash.

"AARRGH!" Tombstone cried out as the flash hurt his light-sensitive eyes. He let go of his enemy and staggered away, covering his eyes. Immediately Moon Knight slipped behind him and put an arm around his throat, his other hand going behind Tombstone's head for a full lock that cut off the blood flow to his brain. He struggled for a few seconds but then passed out, his struggles ceasing as his body went lifeless. Moon Knight released his hold and let him slump to the floor.

"Sorry Jaws, no bonus for you" he said. He turned to glance at James. "Hold on kid. I'll get you out of here."

"Thanks."

* * *

Once James had been brought to a hospital to have his injuries treated Moon Knight called Jacob and told him where his brother was. He rushed there immediately.

When James had recovered enough to talk he told his brother where he had hid the evidence he had gathered. It turned out he had hidden it in Central Park, under a fallen tree that he and his brother had played around when they were kids. As he had said there was indeed enough evidence to put Turner away for life.

The next day Marc Spector himself paid a visit to the hospital. Jacob met him outside.

"How is he?"

"He's fine. They kept him in overnight for observation just in case but they're discharging him today. I'm here to pick him up."

"I'm glad he's okay."

"Thanks Marc" said Jacob. "Thanks for saving my brother. Next time you see that Moon Knight guy give him my thanks too."

"I will. See you around."

Jacob went into the hospital. Marc turned and walked over to a Mercedes parked nearby. By the time he got inside he had switched back to Steven Grant.

"Everything okay?" Marlene asked.

"Everything's fine" he replied. "Jacob's brother is okay and Turner is going away for a long time."

"What about the club?"

"It's under new management. I expect the staff will be a lot more comfortable now it isn't being run by a criminal."

She grinned. "Pity I already quit then. I think you'd have liked how the uniform looked on me."

"I'm sure I would" he agreed.

"Of course if you want to see for yourself we could go clothes shopping" she said slyly.

"Sounds good to me" Steven agreed. "You can check out the latest fashions and I can get in some extra weight training carrying your bags."

They both laughed as he started the engine and the Mercedes glided away.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I know that in the 90's Spider-Man cartoon Tombstone states "I don't breathe" but I've researched the comics version and found nothing to indicate he has this ability there. Ergo I decided that asphyxiation would be effective against him. If I am mistaken I apologise.


End file.
